Today I broke something that was precious to me. Although I’ve only owned it since 2005, it belonged to my mother’s mother over 100 years ago and was put to daily use in her home at the turn of the last century. After she died, my mom used it throughout her 50 years of marriage, and after she died, I kept it busy at my house: a small, beat-up paring knife.
I blogged about this treasured possession in November, 2009 (A Sharp Surprise) when I thought I’d lost it during the hectic weeks of Nate’s illness. The house had been filled with people during those weeks, and I’d spent very little time in the kitchen, letting others do the cooking. When I finally resumed KP duty, the knife was gone.
Thankfully it turned up later, and since then I’ve used it every day. Its blade is as sharp as a razor, slicing through onions and carrots like they were butter. But tonight I demanded a little too much of that poor old knife, and now it’s ruined.
Having failed to take the meat out of the freezer in time to thaw for dinner, I tried cutting the icy blocks of chicken with Mom’s knife and bing! It snapped in two. I couldn’t believe this trusty tool had failed after 100 years of successes but there it was, lying on the counter in two pieces, no longer fit for anything except the trash bin.
Once in a while I feel much like that over-committed knife, racing through a day in which I can’t possibly accomplish everything I hope to, but trying anyway. Then comes the moment when I snap in two, forgetting what I should have remembered, or saying something I shouldn’t have said, or bursting into tears of frustration. And I become useless.
God says our days aren’t supposed to be that way. If we’re properly aligned with his purposes, snapping in half shouldn’t occur. It’s easy to get stretched as thin as Mom’s knife so that tasks we used to accomplish with ease suddenly bend and break us.
Whether we’ve taken on too much, aren’t maintaining ourselves as we should, or are simply running too fast, we’re trying to manage more than our stretched-thin selves can handle. But if we say yes to only the assignments God gives us, they’ll be perfectly matched to our time and abilities, and the burdens he’ll ask us to carry will feel delightfully lightweight.
So when we sense we’re about to snap, we should look for the reason, and we’ll find out we’re the ones responsible. But it’s never too late to turn from our own agendas and ask God to substitute his. If we’ll follow those instructions, he’ll strengthen our weak spots and prevent us from snapping in two.
And good news: unlike my hundred-year-old kitchen knife which can’t be fixed, we can be.
“You don’t need a telescope, a microscope, or a horoscope to realize the fullness of Christ… When you come to him, that fullness comes together for you, too. His power extends over everything.” (Colossians 2:9-10 The Message)
